Tōgai City reeked of rust, blood, and forgotten dreams.
Beneath neon skies veiled by eternal smog, a boy limped down the alley — a broken blade strapped to his back like a mockery of valor.
His name was Kurosawa Arata. E-Rank Yōhei. The weakest hunter alive.
"Oi! Arata, you even alive after that last Gate?"
Someone laughed from across the street, flicking a cigarette.
"Bro, don't breathe too hard near him. He might break."
The others chuckled. Arata didn't reply. Not because he was shy — but because he was tired. Tired of the noise. Tired of the eyes.
Tired... of being nothing.
In the Hunters Guild, they didn't call him Arata anymore.
They called him:
"Zero Percent."
As in, zero percent survival rate predicted.
He was seventeen. No family. No sponsor.
Just a cracked katana, and a dead system mark on his palm.
While others unlocked lightning blades, flame strikes, and golden summons — Arata's system did nothing. For three years.
That morning, he stood before a Rank-D Gate. A standard assignment. Nothing unusual.
Except... the gate was pulsing. As if breathing.
"Alright, team," the squad leader barked. "In and out. Clean sweep."
Arata followed them inside, boots crunching over frost-ridden grass. The air reeked of something old. Rotten.
The dungeon didn't look D-Rank at all.
Dark spires. Black vines. Strange glyphs on the walls.
Then the screams began.
"What the hell is that?!" "It's not in the log—!"
One by one, they vanished. Gored. Crushed. Consumed.
Arata turned — and saw the Gate ripple shut.
He was alone.
Breathing heavy, he stumbled deeper. Deeper into the heart of something wrong.
The walls were whispering. Not in Japanese. Not in human tongue.
He followed the sound — until he entered a chamber of bones.
Thousands of skeletons lay bowing before a throne made of black horns and ruined steel.
On it sat...
Nothing.
But still, the voice came.
...You are not the first. But you are the first to stay."
The mark on Arata's palm flared. For the first time — it glowed.
He dropped to his knees as agony surged through him — his vision blurring.
「奈落契約,開始.」
"Naraku Keiyaku... Kaishi."
Abyss Contract… Initiated.
A cold, black liquid oozed from beneath the throne. It crawled toward him, tendrils snaking over his arms, his face, his heart.
He screamed.
But no sound came.
Only a whisper:
"Your death has been denied. You are now... a Curse."
Scene Break
He woke up in complete silence. Still in the chamber. Still alone.
But something had changed.
His blade was gone.
His eyes... no longer brown. One had turned gold — glowing like fire trapped in ice.
A screen appeared before him — like a floating HUD.
🔻[System Update: ERROR]🔻
ABYSS CONTRACT SYSTEM ONLINE
⚠ Host Integrity: Compromised
⚠ Status: Dead
⚠ Rebirth Level: 1 – Shadow of the Abyss
"Welcome back, Arata. You are no longer human.
You are Naraku no Ko. The child of the Abyss."
"...Wh-What… did you… do to me?" he croaked.
But the system did not answer.
Instead, the mark on his hand morphed — like something alive.
It stretched, reshaped, and formed a new seal: a black spiral with three eyes.
Suddenly — Arata heard footsteps.
Not real ones. Echoes.
From the bones, a figure began to rise.
A soldier in ancient armor, headless, his chest branded with the same seal.
The Abyss had given him a gift:
His first undead servant.
Arata stood shakily.
The black liquid wrapped around his arm — threads forming from his skin, tightening like barbed wire.
He raised his hand… and the threads moved.
Like snakes.
Like death itself.
Narration:
In that moment, something inside Arata snapped.
Not from fear. Not from madness.
But from release.
The chains were broken.
For the first time in his life... he felt alive.
Not as a hunter.
Not as a boy.
But as something else entirely.
Outside the gate, emergency responders detected a spike.
"S-Rank signature?"
"No. Higher… Wait. What the hell IS that?!"
Guild officials panicked.
"Where's Arata Kurosawa?!"
"Dead, sir. Confirmed death signature hours ago."
"Then WHO is still inside the Gate?!"
Inside the dungeon, Arata stepped forward — eyes glowing.
"They left me to die."
"So now... I will show them what they created."
As he passed the bone throne, the shadows bent toward him — like kneeling soldiers.
And from the ceiling above, a single word carved itself into stone — in a language no one alive understood:
"ABYSSBORN."
In the floating city of Tenshū, a figure in white armor stirred.
A Ruler — wings folded behind his back — opened a sealed scroll.
The child has awakened.
Prepare the Cleansing."